


I, Monster

by enaykin, Valka



Series: The Wolf's Blood [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood Mage, First Person Narrative, Low Self-Esteem, M/M, Origin Story, Shapeshifter, Violent Murders, companion to the inquisitor, referenced rape, self-depreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enaykin/pseuds/enaykin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valka/pseuds/Valka
Summary: First person narrative, Faycen tells his story. Valka had considered putting this into Bleeding the Veil as a letter to Vaeyin from Faycen, explaining why he wasn't worthy of Vaeyin's love, however I thought it worth posting separately.Faycen Malik is a companion character to the Inquisitor and is his love interest.Valka tagged as co-author because she owns Vaeyin Lavellan, the Inquisitor.





	I, Monster

I am a monster.

I don’t believe people are born this way, but neither do I believe they are made this way by external circumstances. I believe it is a choice. Why? Because I _am_ one. So, I ought to know. I didn’t start out this way, and I could use the excuse that awful things happened to me to make me this way. But I also know there are other people who have suffered as I and remained good people. I am not a good person. Not after the things I’ve done.

When I was about fourteen I was captured by a group of templars. The why or how isn’t important, but the _what_ is. I had used blood magic in front of them; forgetting all else, that would have been enough. So they dragged a young boy to the templar dungeons, raped, beat, slit his throat, and left him for dead. But he... _I_...survived. Because I’m too fucking stubborn to die.

Pass the next few years by. I was around nineteen now. I had gotten better about knowing human rules, town laws, and to hide my inner monster. I still didn’t believe at the time that I was one, but that was about to be proven wrong in the worst of ways. I was in a small town, it looked familiar, though I couldn’t place it at first, I had traveled through quite a few towns by this point, and I didn’t always remember them well. 

But then I heard it. That voice. One of them anyways. I’d never forget any of their voices. There were four of them, and I didn’t even have to look, I knew exactly what I would see when I turned around from the market stall I was browsing. I thought maybe my shocking red hair might jog his memory, but he passed me by without a second thought. Apparently, they had forgotten me. But I would _never_ forget. Dropping everything, I followed him, stalking his shadow until he finally wandered down a side alley, leaving him alone and vulnerable. 

I revealed myself, calling to him as I approached. It was clear on his face, he had no idea who I was. It burned that they would so easily forget while I was scarred and shattered inside. And outside. I taunted him, asking if he remembered me, pulling my collar down so the scar across my throat showed. It took a moment, but his eyes finally widened in recognition and he opened his mouth to call out, but I had other ideas. My hand closed around his windpipe and I leaned in, whispering “not this time.” 

Honestly, I can’t see myself when I shift forms, but I get quite a few horrified looks from those unfortunate enough to witness it, and his was no different. Even when the pressure of my elf hand left his throat he was frozen in shock and fear, staring at me with eyes wide enough to pop out of his head. I had decided to use my most intimidating form, shifting into a massive great bear before knocking him to the ground with one huge paw. I was curious, I’d never actually fought a human in plate as a bear before, so I pressed down on his chest with my paw, slowly dropping all of my weight onto it. I was smiling, though I suppose it looked more like a snarl, pleased when I heard the plate begin to whine in protest, bending inward. It was too late when he began to panic, thinking to call out. The plate folded inward, putting pressure on his lungs, I watched the horror dawn on his face, his eyes glaze over, heard his wheezing breaths as his ribs began to snap like twigs. I watched the blood well in his mouth, drowning in it from the inside out, I grinned as it spattered all over, but I kept pressing. I pressed down until all my weight was on it and that portion of his chest was almost completely flat. I watched the light leave his eyes, and I felt overwhelming satisfaction. 

I loved that he was terrified when he died. I loved seeing his fear, that he knew death was coming and he couldn’t do anything about it. I loved the pain he had been in, watching him choke on his own blood. I loved killing him. In that moment, I knew, and I accepted it. I am a monster. This was okay. I didn’t matter to anyone anyways, even those who’d hurt me forgot me. 

One by one I hunted the rest of them, killing them each as slowly, painfully, instilling as much fear and terror as possible. I also ensured they knew exactly who it was that was killing them. I made sure they remembered me before they died. 

Though, I do remember, I almost let one of them go. The youngest. The one who’d been charged with slitting my throat. The one responsible for my continued breath. His hesitation and timid cut had allowed me to live, to survive. I remember during the beatings and the…-that he’d hesitated then too. But he had still participated, following the eldest’s order. He could only have been a scant few years older than I. His terror was the most of the four, his eyes practically vibrating in fear. I almost stayed my hand. Oh, but I’d had something special in mind for him. He’d also been the only one to remember me without needing a reminder. He’d recognized my face immediately.

I shoved him against the stone wall, covered his mouth with one hand and shushed him in his ear as I slid my knife between the tendons in his throat. I’m a very skilled hunter, I know just where to stab to avoid major arteries. Instead I cut through his voicebox, he was still bleeding profusely, but it was a difference of minutes of life instead of bleeding out in seconds. I made him stay there, gagging on his own blood, gasping desperately for breath, unable to cry out or speak, staring into his eyes as he slowly faded away. My eyes never left his, the terror he felt was a palpable thing. I could taste it. When he finally succumbed I let his body fall and left it there like garbage, leaving the village forever. 

There was...IS no guilt. I feel nothing but intense satisfaction. I killed those men in cold blood, in brutal and painful ways, dragging it out, making them suffer. Only a monster could do that. But they were monsters too, for what they did to me.

I hunt other monsters. And I am okay with this. Someday another monster will kill me, and that will also be okay.

I am a monster.

**Author's Note:**

> enaykin.tumblr.com


End file.
